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FRENCH'S ACTING EDITION 
THE WILES OF THE WIDOW jj 

(KATHLEEN CRIGHTON LION). 

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THE WILES OF THE 
WIDOW 



A YORKSHIRE COMEDY 
IN ONE ACT 



By 
KATHLEEN CRIGHTON LION 



Copyright, ion, by Samuel French, Ltd. 



New York London 

SAMUEL FRENCH SAMUEL FRENCH Ltd 

Publisher 26 Southampton Strkkt 

*&-$* WEST 3STH STREET STRAND 






Produced by Mr. Charles Hawtrey at Wyndham's Theatre, 
London, on June n, 1910, to precede " The Naked Truth," 
and revived at Prince of Wales' Theatre, October, 1910, in 
front of " Inconstant George." 



CHARACTERS 



Betsy Pye (a comely, buxom widow, about 30). 

Miss Clare Greet. 
Mary Beasley (Sister to James, a thin spinster, 37). 

Miss Joy Chatwyn. 
James Beasley (Skipper of the Mary Jane, a genial bluff 
man, 40). Mr. Holliday Attlay. 

Daniel John Scatt (the Village Policeman. A widower, 38) • 

Mr. Hubert Druce. 
Time. — Late afternoon in September. 
Place. — A small fishing village in Yorkshire. 



'C/.D 23692 



M antelpiece Q_V_ 
Fire-place la 




THE WILES OF THE WIDOW 

Scene. — Front room of a country cottage. (See Plan.) It is 
fairly large, and half of it is utilized as a shop, or village general 
stores. Down r. front is a shop door, with half-curtained 
window, and a bell which rings when door is opened. Above 
this, crossing diagonally above corner r., is a bow window 
fitted up with shelves, on which are rows of bottles, tins, etc. 
Bolew this, R.c, is a primitive counter loaded up with various 
requisites of a village store, a cooked ham on a dish, twine, 
tobacco, bottles of sweets, tins of biscuits, tea, cocoa, etc., and 
a pair of scales. In back wall r. is a dresser, fitted with tea 
and dinner service, and standing on it is a silver teapot, a 
bottle of cowslip wine and three glasses. A brass warming- 
pan hangs on wall on l. of dresser. Left of this is the door 
to the garden. Down l. is the brick fire-place, with hob and 

■ kettle, and rag hearthrug. On the mantelpiece tea caddy and 
old-fashioned ornaments. Below fireplace, a Windsor arm- 
chair. Above fire-place an old grandfather clock, l.c. of 
stage a large kitchen table, facing longways, with a chair to 
l. and R. of it, and another at the back. On walls r. are a 
motley collection of framed advertisements . Soap, whiskey, 
tea, and biscuits, etc. On walls l. a couple of framed gor- 
geous funeral cards, a few framed coloured supplements from 
Christmas numbers, and a gaudy-coloured portrait of the 
King and Queen. '{There is a general air of simple cottage 
comfort and cleanliness. 

KEY TO NUMBERS ON PLAN. 



I. 


Shop door. 




ii. 


Decanter of wine and 


2, 


Bell on ditto. 






glasses. 


3: 


Counter. 




12. 


Door to garden. 


4- 


Scales. 




13- 


Grandfather's clock. 


5- 


Ham on dish. 




*4- 


Tea-caddy on mantle- 


6. 


Small kegs or 


biscuit 




piece. 




tins. 




L5- 


Fire-place, fire-irons. 


7- 


Shop window fitted with 




kettle, etc. 




shelves. 




10. 


Arm-chair. 


8. 


'Dresser 




17- 


' Kitchen table. 


9- 


Warming-pan. 




18. 


Chairs. 


io. 


Silver teapot. 


PROPE 


19. 
RTII 


Rugs. 
iS. 



Posy of flowers for Daniel. 
Tobacco for Betsy. 
Twine for Betsy. 
Lace scarf for Betsy . 
Tea things for Betsy. 



Sally Lun cake, etc., 

Betsy. 
Flower vase for Betsy. 
Tablecloth for Betsv. 



for 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

Scene. — Betsy is bustling about the room, setting 
things straight, pausing to pat her hair in front of the 
glass. She is apparently expecting somebody. The 
door bell rings, she turns smilingly round, but as she 
sees her visitor her face changes, she is evidently dis- 
appointed. 

Daniel (to cou,nter). Good-day to you, Mrs. Rye, 
raarm, a bonny day for 

Betsy. Good-day to you, Dan'l John Scatt, and 
what are you wanting ? (At counter.) 

Daniel (looking round the shop in desperation). 
I just called in for — a bit o' twine. . . . Yes, that 
was it ! . . . Ever since my poor wife died — 

Betsy (holding out the ball). Tak' it then . . . owt 
else ? 

Daniel (slowly, showing that he had only just 
thought of it). Half a pound of ham, an' if its not 
troubling you, will you give it me cut middling thin. 
I'm not much of a hand at carving myself. 

Betsy (with a sniff). Men are poor creatures ! 

Daniel (with an ingratiating manner). That's true, 
it is ! . . . A man's lost without a woman ! 

Betsy. Some are lost with one, Daniel John, 
mind ye that ! 

Daniel (rubbing his chin). You arc a rare clever 
woman, Mrs. Pye . . . and a bonny 'un as well . . . 
yes, that you are ! 

Betsy. Get along with you, man, what next, 1 
wonder ? 

Daniel (producing a large country buttonhole from 



(i THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

kis fiat). I've brought you a posy, Mrs. Pye, 'tain't 
much . . . 'tain't half good enough for you. 
Betsy. Thank you, Dan'l John. 

(Betsy tak&s posy, puts it in glass vase on dresser, 
fills it with water from glass water-jug on dresser, 
then put.: vise with -posy on table.) 

Daniel. But if you'll be cutting up that ham for 
me, I'll tell you 

Betsy (with asperity). More than I have time to 
listen to, I'll be bound. 

Daniel. Tut, tut ! Betsy, you look bonnier than 
ever when you are hred. (Sees James at the door.) 
Oh, well, I have an errand down the street, and I'll 
come back in half an hour ... I'll come back. 
, Betsy. Aye, do ! 

Daniel, And you'll listen to me then ? 
■ Betsy. Yes, man, yes, anything you like, but 
go ! 

Daniel. I'm a-going . . . I'm a-going, Mrs. 
Pye. Good-bye to you. 



{Exit Daniel. James had seen Daniel and had gone 
to look into shop window again. Betsy runs to glass, 
smoothes her hair, twists her apron right. The door 
opens, and bell rings. She advances smilingly to 
James;) 

>::isy. Ah ! Mr. Beasley, it's a pleasant surprise 
to see you, Vm thinking. 

James. Thanks, ma'am, thanks . . . I've called 
for— 

Betsy: Y.m're looking as line and young as ever, 
James. 

James (highly pleased, twirls his thumb in his arm- 
holes), "lis true, ma'am; quite true! 

i'ETsv. it seems to me but yesterday you kissed 
me in the hayfield; James. 

James. Eh! What! ma'am ... I never did! 



THE WTLES OF THE WIDOW. 7 

Betsy. Oh yes, you did, James, you did that. 
was always fond of. you, and — 

James. Was that why you married Silas Pye, 
ma'am ? 

Betsy. Silas is dead, Mr. Beasley, and I mourned 
him eighteen months, twelve months in deepest black-, 
and six months in half-tones. Aye ! and I paid a 
pretty penny for it too . . . But 'twas worth it, 
James . . . I've done my duty to Silas . . . no. 
one can say I made a bad wife to him. (Begins to 
sniff a little.) But I am a lonely woman now, with 
no one to care for me. [Uses her handkerchief.) 

James (looking very embarrassed. Clearing his 
throat). Ahem! (Betsy takes no notice.) Ahem? 
{She slowly looks up.) I've just called in fdr an ounce 
of shag and to tell you that sister Mary is coming to 
spend the afternoon with you ! 

Betsy (in tones of anger). Shag ! (Celling shag 
from counter.) All well, I daresay a lonely, uncared- 
for man needs shag! (Bangs it down on counter.) 

James. Mary is a good sister to me ! 

Betsy. Oh ! Mary is right enough, peaked and 
pined, as is natural like in a spinster. It must he a 
^reat trial to a man to have a woman like that in his 
house . . . not to speak of the burden — 

James. Say no more, she is a good lass ! 

Betsy. So she is, James, so she is ! 

James (coming in front of counter). Nay, nay, 
Betsy, we all know your good heart. 

Betsy. You make me feel right shamed, bat it is 
lonesome like here, sometimes. . . 

James. You have a snug enough little place, end 
you're a rare fine woman, Betsy Pye ! 

Betsy. So Dan'l Scatt alius say-. 

James. What Dan'l Scatt, the policeman D (Betsy 
nods assent.) And you let him . . .do you ? 

Betsy. He is alius a-pestering of m?, and 1 must 
say lie pays me a good deal of attention. Yes, Dan'l 
John thinks a lot about me ! (Goes c.) 



.-5 



8 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

James. You mean about your snug little bit o' 
home. {Cross r.c.) 

Betsy. An' why shouldn't he ? . . . It w a 
snug little home . . . and I've a tidy bit put away 
besides. 

James. Is that true ? 

Betsy (nodding her head). Aye, and more ; I 
bought them two cottages down the Close Alley, 
and Silas left me that shop of Cook's in the Market 
Place, an' I saved up and bought twenty-five shares 
in the Co-operative Stores- 

James. My ! You're quite a rich woman . . . 
I never knew it ! 

Betsy. P'raps not ! And when I was a-buying of 
Silas' grave, I bought it big enough for three ! 

James. For three, Betsy Pye ? 

Betsy. Aye, James, for three ! I thought t'would 
-be a saving. I knew I was a comely woman, an' I 
thought when I died, I should lie best a-tween my first 
and second . . . and then when Doomsday comes, I 
can pacify them ! (Turns from htm l.) 

James (goes up to her). Have you thought serious 
like as to whom your second should be ? 

Betsy. Aye, I have that ! 

James. What be he like, Betsy? (Steps down r.) 
Tell us that ? 

Betsy (looking at him). He's a sea-faring man . . . 
He's fine] and tall, with a good colour . . . Aye, an' 
he's got a tender heart ! 

James (looking very pleased) steps again to her). 
And how do you know that, Betsy ? (This said very 
tenderly. ) 

Betsy. Because of the love he bears his sister. 

James. Because of Mary ! (Steps from her down a 
little r.c). (Aside.) Aye, I had clean forgot her. 

Betsy (going to him). Can you guess who I mean, 
James ? 

James. No ! I daresent ! 

Betsy. You daresent ? (Puts her hand on his arm.) 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 9 

James. I daresent ! (Puts her hand down, Betsy 
turns away.) I promised t' old mother that I would 
always make a home for Mary, and not bring another 
woman in it, till she was married ... or buried ! 

Betsy. Then 'tis no use talking. 

James. No ! ... no use at all, and I had better 
be going. (Goes round counter.) I'll call for Mary 
after tea. 

Betsy. Aye, do ! (sits on arm of chair, r. of 
table) and I'll try and cheer her up, James. 

James. You're a good woman (leans on counter), 
Betsy, a good woman . . . (Goes to door.) Good-bye. 

(Exit James.) 

Betsy. Betsy Pye (getting table-cloth from dresser 
drawer and putting it on table. Takes cup and saucer 
and honey and milk from dresser and puts on table), it 
looks as if you wasted that money on the grave . . . 
Still, one must go on, a body cannot pull the blinds 
down every time sorrow comes to live with her, an' 
I'll just light up and make things a bit more cheerful. 
(She lights the lamp, stirs the fire, then turns and sees 
Daniel's flowers ; these she puts into water on the table.) 
Poor Dan'l ! P'raps he's lonely now Sarah Ann's 
gone ... He means well, poor man ; he can't help 
not being much to jlook at. But I do hold that a 
woman can't be too particular about getting a fine 
set man for her second. There must be no rummage 
sale article for her . . . She can't afford it. No, 
Dan'l John, she can't afford it. (A shadow is seen 
over the door window, and Daniel enters.) Lawks 
sake! Dan'l John, I clean forgot that ham! 

Daniel. Leave the ham alone, Mrs. Pye, not that 
there is owtthe matter with it — ham's all right in its 
proper place ; that minds me, I buried my Sarah Ann 
with ham, and no stint of it. Aye, and I gave the 
folks pork pies as well, and they all guzzled as if they 
hadn't been to a funeral for twelve months past. 
(Shuts door.) 



!0 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW 

Betsy. Aye, you buried her right well, I'll say 
that for you, Dan'l John. 
' Daniel {leaning over counter). And I'll bury my 
second as fine, Betsy, you. need have no fear about 
that. 

Betsy. I'll tell her when I set eyes on her. (To 
corner 6f counter.) 

Daniel. ( You set eyes on her ! (Guffaws.) That's 
a joke, but' you were always a rare un at jokes! 
(Follows Betsy to comer of counter and chucks her 
tender chin.) 

'Betsy. I'd have you keep your place, Mr. Scatt. 
(Crosses c.j ' 
Daniel. I meant no harm, Betsy. (Follows to 

c) : : 

Betsy. I'll see you don't do any neither. 

Daniel (insinuatingly). You know you're a great 
tine woman, an' mortal tempting to us poor men. 

Betsy. Ah ! That was Adam's first wicked 
excoose, Dan'l (with a coquettish toss of her head), 
and men have used it ever since. 

Daniel. And we poor men be mortal weak, 
Betsy. (Puts his arm round her waist.) 

Betsy. I'm net going to have you weak round 
here. (Takes his arm away and up to dresser for loaf 
of bread.) 

Daniel. Hold hard ! I've got something to say 
to thee, and I'm darned well going to say it, so there ! 

Betsy. I'm hot a-hindering of you, man. (Down 
to table l. with lea-cUps.) 

Daniel (lakes off helmet and puts it on the counter. 
Shakes his head very seriously.) You can't call me a 
'andsome rriahl'can you, Betsy? 

Betsy (lop of table l.). Don't be too hard on your- 
self, Dan'l John. ' 

Daniel. Well, I know I ain't a picture. 

.Betsy. Well, 'there are pictures and pictures, my 
man. 
: £)aniel. Oh yes, I know. I am oneof t'other sort. ( 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 11 

Betsy. Don't take en, Dan'l John, you're 2 '^nod- 
meaning man. 

Daniel {jumping at if. Crosses to her lop of tabic 
L.). Aye, an' a man's meaning counts more for. 
matrimony than his looks, Mrs. Pye, I'd have you 
know. 

Betsy (sadly). I know that, Dan'l. 'Daniel . 
edges close up to her.) 

Daniel. As I said, I'm not much to look at, an' 
I'm not clever. I never had any book learning, and. 
sich like, but I always make a woman a good husband. \ 

Betsy. I never doubted that, Dan'l John. You 
should get married again. (Goes to front of table.), 

Daniel (he also goes to front of table). How did 
you guess I meant that ? Oh ! we could be so happy 
and comfortable together, just you and me ! I'd 
bring you home all my money, an' you should give 
me a bit o' baccy every week, an' a few coppers for 
my pocket 

Betsy. Nay, nay, man, that can never be. 

Daniel. Do you mean you won't have me ? 
(Step:; back in atHazefnent.) 

Betsy. Aye, I mean that. 

Daniel. Then what have I been a-doing of 
wasting my time ? — You won't change your mind ? ■ 

Betsy. No ! I abide by what I said, Dan'l 
John ! But I'm not the only woman in the village 
tha' knows ? 

Daniel. No, I cast my eye over one or two before 
1 settled on thee, an' I didn't see none as likely as 
you ... 1 bear you no grudge, Mrs. I've (crosses 
to counter and gets helmet, and then goes )una other\ 
side of counter), an I'll take that ham after all. I 
thought as how if you'd had me, I needn't have 
bought it. I'd just have stopped wi' you and had . 
some with me tea. j 

Betsy. Sure, an' you're still welcome, man. 

Daniel. No, I'd best be getting home, tho' its, 
lonesome there without a woman . . . and since 



H THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

Sarah Ann died, I've had to buy every bit o' bacon 
and ham, 'stead of having it in t' house . . . Aye, 
it makes me miss her. 

Betsy. Sarah Ann was a rare good managing 
wife. (Goes to R. of table and cuts bread and butter.) 
Daniel. Aye (goes to counter and puts helmet and 
stick on it), she was that. A fine woman with pigs. 
I don't hold with these new fangled ways mysen ; I 
hold that a woman's place is to mind her home, and 
look after the pigs, and her man, and see that there 
is always a bit o' pork in t' house. There's no one 
as does it now, like my Sarey Ann. (Comes to end of 
counter.) 

Betsy (a light suddenly appears in her face. Aside). 
Bless my soul! Mary Beasley ! (To him.) Yes, 
there is, Dan'l John, and she's a rare hand at it ; her 
black puddings and chitlings are something wonder- 
ful j 

Daniel. He's a lucky man that has her then. I 
wish I had. (Goes R.c.) 

Betsy (going towards him a little). You might 
have her yet, for she's not bespoken. 

Daniel. You don't mean it, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Aye, I do ! Wouldn't it be good to 
have some hot sizzling bacon ready for you when 
you came home at nights ? 

Daniel (smacking his lips). Don't talk of it, 
Betsy, I can't abide it ... I can't really. 'Taint 
Widow Grist, is it ? 

Betsy. No, 'tisn't her. 

Daniel. She talked her man into the grave ! . . . 
(Gdes to her c.) Nor any young flighty girls ; I can't 
stomach them. 

Betsy (to him a). No, Din'l John, a quiet sonsie 
woman, not over young. 

Daniel. Eh ? 

Betsy (watching his face she adds quickly). And 
not over old . . . an' I know some one as is going to 
give her . . . (looking round) grand gifts for her 



THE WILES' OF THE WIDOW 13 

wedding — a silver teapot ! (Looks round at silver 
teapot on sideboard.) 

Daniel. Real silver, Betsy ? 

Betsy (still looking round). Aye . . . and a 
chiney tea service ! 

Daniel. Well, I never ! 

Betsy. Aye, and a warming-pan ! (Looking 
round at warming-pan on wall up L.) 

Daniel. Sarah Ann was powerful set on a warm- 
ing-pan. 

Betsy. Aye, and a pig to start with ! 

Daniel. Ow ! . . . A pig ! a pig ! ! Well ! I'm 
blowed ! (Steps back to counter, turns, sees ham and 
strokes it.) 

Betsy {very solemnly, crossing to him). Yes, Dan'l 
John Scatt, she is just the wife you're wanting. 

Daniel (getting his hat' and slick from the counter). 
What they call her, Betsy, and where does she 
live ? 

Betsy (reluctant to confess her name). She's a 
rare cook. 

Daniel. Yes . . . Yes . . . Tell us her name. 

Betsy. And she gets a real silver teapot ! 

Daniel. Who be it, Betsy ? 
' Betsy, Tis Mary Beasley then ? 

Daniel. Mary Beasley ! (Standing thunder- . 
struck.) Her ! ... you're joking. 

Betsy (with asperity). Aye, Maiy Beasley 

Have you owt against her ? 

Daniel. Mary . . . Mary Beasley ! (Starting? to 
laugh.) I never thought of her. (Scratching his head.) 
But . . . she's turned thirty-seven. 

Betsy (l. of table). Nothing of the kind ! Thirty-, 
seven indeed ! Why, it wants two months afore 
she's that. 

Daniel. Will she have me, do you think ? ■ • .< : 

Betsy. Won't she just ! She's always a-talking 
of you ; her heart's fair set on you, Dan'l John ; you 
should just hear her ! 



14 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

Daniel. Is that so . . . poor lass ! poor lass ! ! 
(Sits chair R. of tea-table.) 

Betsy. Aye, poor lass, she can scarce eat or 
sleep for thinking of thee ; it's just wasting her away. 

Daniel. Ah ! Sarah Ann said I was always 
powerful attractive to females. 

Betsy (front of table). Not to every female, Dan'l 
John. 

Daniel. Some have more sense than others, 
Betsy Pye. (Rise and strut c.) 

Betsy. Me among them, I reckon. 

Daniel (crosses to her). There, th,ere, Betsy, I 
alius says, " What's one man's meat is another's 
poison." I can never eat crab myself. (Crosses c.) 

Betsy. Well, are you going to ask her or not ? 

Daniel. I'll ask her right enough, if I ^et the 
chance. 

Betsy. I'm expecting her every minute to tea. 
Stay and have a sup with us, and ask her then. 

Daniel (edging away). Nay, nay, there's no such 
mortal hurry. (Backs to comer of counter.) 

Betsy. I knows of others that is after her, and 
she's waited long enough for a man ! 

Daniel (hesitates, then anxiously). But I've never 
courted her yet ! 

Betsy. Marry her first, and court her afterwards 
man, that's what pleases a woman. 

Daniel. But I can't start sudden like, directly I 
see her . . . Shouldn't know what to say. 

Betsy. You great gaby (going to him, and shaking 
him)', you ! You go for a walk, and I'll prepare her. 
Then come in for a sup of tea with us, and you'll find 
her ready enough. 

Daniel. Aye, I will ! (Goes round counter and 
gets helmet and stick. He goes to door, and then sud^ 
denly is convulsed ivith laughter, loud guffaz&s break 
from him.) 

■ ■ i 

(Betsy goes l. to table.) 



THE WLIES OF THE WIDOW. IS 

Betsy. What ails thee, man, now ? (He still is 
unable io speak.) Can't you speak ? 

Daniel (between counter and door, still holding his 
sides with laughter). Twice asking in one day— a 
widow and a maid ..." I'm thinking what a terri- 
ble gay dog I be ! . . . Ha ! . . . Ha ! ... Ha ! 
Two askings in one "day ! (Still laughing.) Two ask- 
ings in one day ! ! 

Betsy. Mind you don't have two refusals, my 
man. (Daniel drops his helmet and picks it up. 
Woeful look comes into his face.) There, get you gone ! 
(He goes to the door.) 

Daniel. Betsy, would you mind giving me back 
that posy ? 

Betsy. Why ? You give it to me ! 

Daniel. It seems a pity to waste it — and it may 
come in useful ! 

Betsy (throwing posy at him and laughnig). Ah ! 
take it then. 

Daniel (catching it). Two askings in one day ! 
and one posy'll do for the two ! Ohoo ! Mary 
Beasley ! ! (Exit Daniel.) 

(Betsy bustles about getting tea ready, lakes up glass 
that had flowers in it, and smiles ; the door bell goes 
again and Mary Beasley enters. A quiet, thin, 
rather despondent-looking woman of about thirty- 
seven.) 

Mary. Good day to you, Betsy. (Crosses R.c.) 

Betsy. Well, Mary, my woman, I'm real glad to 
see you . . . unpin your shawl, and make yourself 
at home. 

Mary. I will, Betsy, thank you. And how's your- 
self ? (Unpinning her shawl and carefully wrapping . 
it up, and being old-maidish generally .) 

Betsy. I'm finely, Mary, and glad to see you \ 
looking so bright. 

Mary. So bright, Betsy. (Puts hand to head.) I 



16 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

had neuralgy all the night, and my poor head is 
always bad. (Sits chair R. of table.) 

Betsy. No one would think so to look at you. 
You don't know how finely you look. 

Mary. You really think so, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Of course I think it, woman, and others 
think it as well as me. I'm not saying as you couldn't 
be improved ! Here, what's this you've got round 
your neck ? (Takes off woollen shawl from her neck.) 
Now you wait a minute, and I'll show you yourself 
in the glass. (She goes to drawer and brings out lace 
collar and a pale pink bow for the neck ; these she puts 
on Mary ^surveying her work critically. She puffs her 
hair out a bit, and lastly unhooks a small mirror from 
the wall and holds it out to her.) There, Mary, ain't 
you bonny ? (l. of fire-place.) 

Mary (all in a flutter) . I think I am ; I look 
younger. You have made me feel different, Betsy . . . 
What is it you have done to me ? 

Betsy. I've only shown you a little appreciation, 
Mary. There's some as calls it flattery, maybe 'tis 
. . . maybe 'tain't ; . . . anyways, it always works, 
and not only with females . . . t' only difference is, 
males wants larger doses, and more frequent ... as 
is natural like. Well, Mary, you've had a hard life, 
a-waiting on your poor mother, and sich-like — but 
things are going to change, you mark my word ! 

Mary. What do you mean, Betsy ? 

Betsy (sits arm of chair beside Mary). Other 
people besides mejthink a sight about you ; I could tell 
you of one I knows of ; that can't get you out of his 
thoughts day and night ! 

Mary. Eh ! That accounts for stranger I had in 
my tea-cup on Sunday. Who can it be, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Where are your eyes, woman, I have no 
patience with you. 

Mary. Nay, Betsy, I can't think. 

Betsy. Perhaps you will when it's too late, and 
he drowns himself for love of you. (Rises and 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 17 

crosses to c.) The poor man's been coming here for 
months past. It's been Mar)" this, and Mary that, 
till I'm fair stalled. An' he's not a man to turn up 
your nose at neither ; he's steady and quiet and easy 
fed, an' I knows some one who'll give him a grand 
gift for his wedding ! 

Mary. Do you now, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Aye, that I do ; he's going to get a silver 
teapot ! (Mary gasps), and a chiney tea-service ! 
and a copper warming-pan ! 

Mary. Sakes. Betsy ! 

Betsy. And besides all that — a pig to start with ! 

Mary. Oh, Betsy ! ! ! (In an awestruck voice.) 
Who can it be ? An' you say he cares for me ? 

Betsy. Cares for you ? Why, he fair worships 
the ground you walk on ! 

Mary {wringing her hands). What shall I. do, 
Betsy, tell me what to do ! I'm a single woman, and 
never had a man before — not like you, that's had one 
and buried him. 

Betsy. Aye, and mean to bury another along with 
me, else I've wasted my money on that there grave. 

Mary. What grave ? 

Betsy. Well, it's what the lawyer chaps call a side 
issue, so we won't talk about it now. 

Mary (to R. of table). Who's the man. Betsy, I'se 
fair trembling to know. 

Betsy. Why ! 'tis Dan'l John Scatt ! 

Mary. Well, I never. (Steps back.) Dan'l John ! 
. . . Why ! I thought he was a-courting thee. 

Betsy. Courting me ! Hooh ! Nothing of the 
sort. He's fair crazed on you, Maty, an' course he 
thinks you're too good for him, and sich-like trash ; 
they always do till you marry 'em . . . but he'll tell 
you himself presently — he's coming in to tea. 

Mary (in affright). Oh, Betsy ! 

Betsy (imitating her). Oh, Mary ! Have you 
never seen a man afore ? Pull yourself together, 
woman. Dan'l John's got a big task in front of him, 



18 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

an' he'll want all the encouragement you can give 
him. 

Mary. How am I to do it, Betsy ? 

Betsy (takes Mary by r. arm and leads her l.). 
Speak him softly ; get him to talk about himself ; look 
as if you never heard anything so interesting in your 
life afore ; and above all — laugh when he does, as 
.hearty as you can, whether you see the joke or not. 
Very likely you won't. 

Mary. Why not, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Cause it won't always be there . . . but 
that's no matter. 

Mary (with tearful gratitude). I shall never forget 
what I owe you. 

Betsy. You won't get him at all if you pull a long 
face like that . . . You must set him at his ease. 

Mary. All by myself ? 

Betsy. Now, you don't want another woman to 
make your own man comfortable, do you ? 

Mary (with all the pride of possession). Of course 
I don't, thanking you very much, Betsy Pye. 

Betsy. That's right, get your spirits up (turns 
towards window and sees Dx\niel), you'll need it, for 
here he is. 

Mary (in alarm). Oh ! 

Betsy. Take heart, I guess he's feeling worse than 
you. Eh ! Dan'll John ! you've got a big task afore 
you ! (Aside.) I've got you, James, I've got you ! 
(Back of chair R. of table.) .. ,■.' 

(Door opens very softly, the bell rings, Daniel's head 
appears round the door rather sheepishly.) 

Betsy (calls out). Come in, Mr. Scatt, tea's just 
ready. {Daniel comes in slowly with the same bouquet 
of country flowers ; he still looks confused ; so does Mary). 
Shut the door, will you. (He shuts door,) The clay 
seems quite chilly . . . You know Mary. , ;.,.. 

Daniel. Indeed I do ! . . . How do, Miss 
Beasley. (End of counter.) 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 10 

Mary. Quite well . . . thank you very kindly. 
Betsy (to him r.). Go over and talk to her, man ! 

(Daniel still holds flowers. Betsy comes round to him, 
and gently pushes him up to Mary. He looks round 
at her ; she signs to him to give the flowers to Mary.) 

Daniel (clearing his throat. Awkwardly): Haw • 
I've taken the liberty of bringing you this nosegay ! 
(He looks down at them, and then hands the flowers to 
Mary.) They're a bit wilted, but they'll freshen up 
all right in water, (r. front corner of table.) Won't 
they, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Aye, that they will ! 

Mary. It's main kind of you, Mr. Scatt. [This 
is said very shyly and suddenly acting on impulse.) 
I'll wear one of these roses. (She pulls out one and 
fastens it in her bodice. L front corner of table.) 

Betsy (down a). That's right, Mary, you should 
always wear pink, it suits you finely ! My word ! 
the men I've heard admire her in pink ! (to Daniel). 

Daniel. You don't say so ! I should hardly 
have thought it ! (He clears his throat and gurgles, 
ditto Mary.) 

Betsy. You shouldn't say that, silly ! (Goes up 

c) 

Mary (shyly). Have you nowt to say to rne, Mr. 
Scatt ? (At corner of table.) 

Daniel. Aye, I've summat to say to 'ee. 
(Makes as if to take her hand, then retreats c.) Er— 
(Gurgles.) Old Sue Tremlett's dead. 

Mary. No ! What did she die of ? 

Daniel. Of a Friday. 

Mary. I mean what complaint ? 

Daniel. There wasn't no complaint, every one 
was satisfied. (Sits chair R. of table.) 

Mary (looks at him for a moment, and then fires a 
shrill laugh). He ! he ! he ! 1 do love your jokes ! 
(Sits chair l. of table. He looks very surprised.) 

Betsy (coming back from fire). Eh, that's right; 



20 H THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

1 knew you two would get on together. (In a loud\ 
whisper to Daniel.) Talk to her, you silly. Don't 
sit there pulling your fingers. 

Daniel. I heard down street just now that Jane 
Lott is in bed again, wi' twins. 

Mary. For shame, Mr. Scatt, and before a single 
lass. (Rises.) 

Daniel. A single lass ! (Rises and crosses to her.) 
That's not my fault, maa'm. (Nudges her humorously.) 

Betsy. That's right, Dan, say something sweet to 
her. 

Daniel. Aye, I'll say summat sweet to her. 
(Advancing again.) 

Betsy. And come and sit down to tea. 

Daniel (turning tail again)- Aye, let's 'ave tea 
first. 

Betsy (with a pleased laugh). Well, sit down ; 
that's right, put a chair for Mary, Dan'l John. 
(Daniel was just sitting down himself to the table, 
jumps up and puts a chair awkwardly for Mary.) 

Betsy. Where do you want to sit, man ? 

Daniel (laughing). He ! he ! Ho ! ho ! I'll sit by 
Mary ! 

Betsy. Aye, you sit there, then. Have some 
scones, Mary. Pass her the honey. 

Daniel. Aye, that I will, 'tis only right. (Picks 
up honey jar.) 

Betsy. What do you mean, man ? 

Daniel. Well . . . what is honey ? 

Betsy. Sticky ! ... of course. 

Daniel. Nay, I don't mean that ... I mean — 
honey's sweet, an' so is Mary. (Hands honey to Mary.) 

Mary. Oh, Mr. Scatt ! (Daniel licks honey off 
his fingers and runs them through his hair.) 

Daniel. Don't call me Mister . . . else 

Mary. Else what . . . Dan'l John ? 

Daniel. Else I shan't never be able to call thee 
Mrs. Scatt. (Laughs loudly.) That was a good un, 
eh, Betsy ? (Poking at Betsy.) 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 21 

Betsy. Aye, you're getting on finely (Betsy 
pours out the tea.) How many lumps, Mary ? 

Mary. One, please. 

Betsy. And you, Dan'l John ? (Goes to put in 
two, when Daniel stops her.) 

Daniel. One's good enough for me then. 

Betsy. Lawks sake ! Isn't that wonderful ! 
(Hands tea to Daniel.) You have both the same 
identical tastes. 

Daniel (to Mary). Shall I stir it for you, Mary ? 

Mary (simpering). Thank you kindly, Dan'l 
John ! (Business of stirring.) 

Betsy (enthusiastically). My word ! It does me 
good to look at you, sure it does. Such pictures of 
bliss I've never seen afore. Help Mary to the Sally 
Lunn, Dan'l . . . that's right. 

Daniel. Aye, have a bite o' Sally Lunn, Mary. 
(Handing it.) 

Mary {taking it shyly). Both pieces, Dan'l ? 

Daniel. Aye, top and bottom ! That means 
matrimony ! Like some one else that's not far 
from you, eh, Betsy ? 

Betsy. Well, things do point that way, I must 
say. (Mary has been drinking her tea, and suddenly 
chokes. Daniel jumps up and thumps her violently 
on the back.) Stay ! stay ! man, you'll knock all the 
breath out of her. (Rises and goes c.) 

Mary. Thank . . . you . . . kindly . . . Dan'l 
John. (This between her gasps.) 1 . . . quite . . . 
likes ... it. (Fall's into Daniel's arms.) 

, Daniel. By gum ! . She quite likes it ! (Smiling 
triumphantlv d( Betsy.) 

Betsy. A woman all over ; the more you beat them 
the better they like it. A little more tea, Mary ? 
(Mary shakes her head.) 

Daniel. Aye, pour it out in saucer ! It'll wash 
down the crumb, lass. (Both pour their tea in saucers 
and drink, gazing at each other over the edge of the saucers. 
Daniel John mikes frantic signs 'to Betsy -to go 



22 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

away and leave them alone. At last she understands, 
nods at him, and goes up back c. to dresser from which 
she takes silver teapot and starts to polish it during 
following scene.) 

Daniel. Mary, I've got summat on my mind 
tha' knowest ! 

Mary. Well, Dan'l John ! 

Daniel. It's three years last Easter since I saw 
vou last to speak to ! 

Mary. Is it so long ? 

Daniel. Aye, that it is. (Pause and both look 
awkward and shy.) 

Mary (hesitatingly). I'm afraid you have been 
lonely of late. (Puts down her saucer.) 

Daniel. Aye, that I have, but I shan't be lonely 
much longer, Mary. (Puts down his saucer.) 

Mary. Won't you ? 

Daniel. Not if you'll have me . . . Will you, 
Mary ? 

Mary. Yes, Dan'l. (Daniel hugs Mary and 
gives her a smacking kiss.) 

Betsy, (at dresser, sighing). There goes my 
silver teapot ! (Daniel and Mary turn round to her.) 

Daniel. Mary and me has agreed to have each 
other, Mrs. Pye. Thanks to you, Betsy. By gum ! 
she's a champion. I've never rightly noticed her 
afore. (They embrace again.) 

Betsy. You have made me right glad, Dan'l John, 
and now we'll all have some cowslip wine for luck, it 
will settle your tea. .;■ 

(Betsy pours out wine. Daniel gulps his off. Then 
hands to Mary.) 

(The door bell rings, James enters, Betsy jumps away 
from Daniel.) ; •;• ;.,'.": 

( 1 ames hesitates awkwardly -on seeing Daniel .Xohn 
r so ?mar- to B,etsy /)*..,. ' . Sl . 

James. I've come for some . . . shag '. .'■•. I 



THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 23 

didn't know I should find Dan'l John Scatt here, and 
looking so smart an' pleased with hisself. 

Betsy {pleadingly). Stay and have a cup of tea 
with us ... do, James. 

James. No, I couldn't abear it ; I had thought I 
would ha' stayed and had tea with Mary and you, but 
I see I oughn't to have come. I won't stand in your 
light. Dan'l John's a good fellow, an' I wish him luck. 

Daniel {coming forward with Mary and speaking 
over Betsy's shoulder, l.c). Who are you wishing 
luck, James ; wish it me while you're about it. 

James (r.). I am wishing it you, Dan'l John. It's 
all fixed up a-tween you then ? {Glancing from 
Betsy to Daniel. All nod assent.) 

Daniel {smiling over Betsy's shoulder). Aye, all 
fixed, fair and sartin'. 

James {thinking it is Betsy he is engaged to). 
Well, it's 'ard on me — but {to Daniel) I do wish you 
luck, Dan'l John, from the bottom of my 'eart. (The. 
men shake hands. Betsy down r.) 

Mary. How did you know, James? . . . Will 
you forgive me ? 

James. Forgive you, lass . . . What do you 
mean ? (c.) 

Mary. About Dan'l John, and me 

James {amazed). Dan'l John and thee ! ! 
Why . . . What . . . (The truth, dawns an him.) 
Why! I thought 'twas Betsy as Dan'l John was 
courtin' 

Daniel {indignantly). Nothin' of the sort. No 
idea of such ! The lies that folks talk 

Betsy. Nay, 'tis Mary that Dan'l John's going to 
marry, and I'm left on the shelf, James 

James. Well, I'm danged ! Mary,Beasley ! what's 
come to thee ! 

Mary (fear fully). You can't stop me, James. 
(Simpering.) I'm of age, thou know'st ! ... be- 
sides, we luv each other — don't we, Dan'l ? (Edging 
up to him.) 



24 THE WILES OF THE WIDOW. 

Daniel. Aye, that we do (scratching his head), 
though how it comes about fair mazes me. 

Betsy. I think I know. (Looking at James.) 

James (in great astonishment). Well, I'm damned ! 
{Bursts into a roar of laughter). Betsy ! You've 
gotten them two to love each other. It's the best 
clay's work you've ever done. (Turning to others.) 
Mary, you've given me a brother, and the best I can 
do is to give you a sister in return. 

Mary and Daniel (together). A sister ! ! 

James. Aye, a sister. (Holding out his arms to 
Betsy.) Will you marrv me and make me happy, 
Betsy ? 

Betsy (with feigned surprise). Oh, James ! ! (In 
his arms.) You are so sudden ! (Looking out over 
his left shoulder.) 



Curtain, 



^jjahri^S^. 




DRB^iriNG ROOM. 




l)w> Kepi/an tiie large rfize, the back scen« ie 13 feefe long and 9 feel >tngh aim ic*.,. 
tends with the Wings and Borders to 20 feet long and lij feet high. In the, #en*re- 
kg a French window, leading down to the ground, On ,the left wing is a fireplace 
with mirror above, and on the right wing is an oil painting. The whole scene is 
tastefully ornamented and beautifully coloured, forming a most elegant picture. 
The abeveas,* representation of a box scene consisting of 38 sheets of paper, 
the extra sheets being used for (he doors each side. 

' . £ a. d. 

Back Scene, Border, and 1 Set of Wings, unmounted .. ..200 

Ditto,, mounted .. ,.... ,. ....'' '.'. 4 4 

Back Scene, Border, with 2 Sets of Wings as above to form Box 

Scene, unmounted .. »- ....-, "' £ 

Ditto, mounted ... ... , .... 




iis is also Kept in the large size only. In the centre is a door i acln.n »uisiii(t. 
i - i the left centre is a rustic, fireplace, and the right centre is a window. On tin 
' Zings are painted shelves, Ac, to complete the scene. The above is a reprehen- 
sion of this scene with 1 set of Wings only (not a Box Scene), but a Box Scene 
an be made bv purchasing the extra set of Wings. Prices and size same as 
rawing Room Scene above 



FRENCH'S ACTING EDITIO" "f BR ~ ftRY "oF CONGRESS 



VOLUME 160 

tS36 The Dentist 
M87 Taken for Granted 
S238 Just as Well 
8239 Hograany 
2241) Pansy 

2241 A Doctor's Engage- 

ments 

2242 A Duet 

2213 My Millirer s Bill, Is. 

2244 My Aunt from Cali- 

fornia 

2245 His Life for Hers 
224(5 The Meeting 
2-247 The Umbrella 

Duologue 

2243 The late Lamented 
2*49 Woman Triumphant 
2260 Angelina's Lover 

VOLUME 151 
2251 Chrysanthemums 
2*f>2 My First Client 

2253 Punctured 

2254 Old Pals 

2255 Honeymoon Tragedy 
2250 Commission 

2257 Hal, the Highwayman 

2258 Dinner for Two 

2259 Ninth Waltz 
•2-260 Human Sport 

2261 Collaborators 

2262 Mere Man 

2263 Packing Up 

2264 Paying Guest 

2265 'Enery Brown 

VOLUME 152 
226« The Jilt 

2267 'Op-o'-Me-Thumb 

2268 A Marriage Has Been 

Arranged 

2269 Carrots 

2270 Conversion of Nat 

Sturge 




014 432 556 4 



2271 Olei 

2272 Aul 

2273 Woi 

2274 Two 

2275 Brie 

2276 Tha 

2277 Well 

2278 Mak 

2279 Gutl _ 
2^80 Game of Chess 

VOLUME 155 

2281 Mr. Steinmann't 

Corner 

2282 Ella's Apology 

2283 Colour Sergeant 

2284 Helpless Couple 

2285 First Aid to the 

Wounded 

2286 Correct Thing 

2287 Their New Paying 

Guest 

2288 Domestic Entangle- 

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2289 Salt of Life 

2290 Time is Money 

2291 Wally and the Widow 

2292 Deceit ful Miss Smiths 
2"93 Holly Tree Inn 

2294 Up-to-date 

2295 Bit of Old Chelsea 



each 



ng Martbj 
trose'S D 



VOLUME 154 
of 



the 



2296 Wrong Side 

Road 

2297 The Open Door 

2298 Prima Donna (Pem- 

berton) 
2293 Lights Out (Pemherton) 
2 '00 Mirror of Time 

2301 Three Blind Mice 

(Muskerry) 

2302 Privy Council 

2303 Snowed up with a 

Duchess 



ZolO Uncle Dick's Darling 
VOLUME 155 

2311 That Horrid Major 

2312 Bardwell v. Pickwich 

2313 House of Nightingale 

2314 Turtle Dovee [d< 

2315 Superior Miss Pellen- 

2316 His Good Genius 

2317 Martha Plays the Fan 

2318 Dumb Cake 

2319 Proposing by Proxy 

2320 Phamix 

2321 Boatswain's Mate 

2322 Final Rehearsal 

2323 Two Aunts at a Tim< 

2324 Nelson Touch 

2325 Convict on the Hear 

VOLUME 156 

2326 Grey Parrot 

2327 Ghost of Jerry Bund 

2328 Bishop's Candlesticl 

2329 Peacemaker 

2330 Changeling 

2331 Wire Entanglement 
I 2332 Pride of Regiment 

2335 "1588" 

2334 Man on the Kerb 
233 V ODowd 

2336 Impertinence of * 

Creature 
2 7 37 Dramatibtat Home 
?333 Martha the Soothsj 
2339 Oid Martha Is. 
2.40 All Through Marthi 



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